Ex Libris
by PaleMoons
Summary: Bella Swan is a beautiful, inspiring, young Ballet dancer. Yet the passion that ran so deeply in her soul has been washed out. When the signs say no. A choice my haunt her forever or set her free.
1. Wellcome To Drawbridge

**The rights of Twilight belong to the former creator and writer, Stephanie Meyer. The character traits, story plot lines, and context of "Ex Libris" belongs to me, PaleMoons. Please do not abuse, use, or steal any of my story. Thank you for reading. You may proceed.**

She gave the sign a particularly strange look. An odd look that is.

_Welcome_

Area

_to_

Beyond

_Drawbridge_

This

_California_

Sign

Closed

She huffed her angelic fringed bangs over her eyes while sanctimoniously pouting. Her mind was in confusion. Her anger in side of her soul. Yer she did not shed one tear, not one.

_A beautiful women with harlot red hair the stopped just beyond her shoulder blades and thin spaghetti arms that were reaching for an halve gallon jug of chocolate milk. She was frail and lady like._

_ The girl looked at her she studied the out line of her body. Then her imagination took a spin. It was her mother. The frail lady was her mother. _

_ The girl with stain glass like bright blue eyes ran to her hugging the women from behind. Soaking in the realization that this was her mother. _

_ "Mom" The blue eyed dove asked._

_ The women whipped around her body scared to see two hands with the fingernails painted a bright metallic pink. She turned to look in sad blue eyes rimmed with Kohl and to see a little body running away. _

She looked at the sign contemplating if she should go inside the bounds of this. She smiled at the sign right between the warning was, ' Welcome to Drawbridge, CA'. She thought is was clever. She imagined a line of dirt. Like the cracks in the ground. The plates of earth that make earthquakes when they move. She thought she might trip in the rumble of the monstrosity of it all. Then she thought she thought she would fall any way.

The wind blew much harder on the flat like land. Tall grasses like an open abyss ready to take her in. It frightened the poor girl. So she stayed on the the rusted train tracks. The world it seemed to be at peace here in the so called land Drawbridge. It was a little after noon and the sun was at it's highest point in the sky. Spreading the land with warmth and comfort.

Quite unaware of the dangerous of playing on train tracks. She some what skipped on the outer rusty rims trying to keep her balance. She graceful like a dove had no trouble with balance. The metal putting pressure in her ballerina flats felt some what vaguely of a blade from a Ice Skate.

She began to do different poses. Starting with her tip toes and slightly turning . Soon the steps took over and she was dancing with flying colors. She danced and laughed humorlessly. She screamed with no tears. Sensuously feeling herself. Doing the dance of her life.

" Hold me contempt for sins." She began sadly chanting. A morbid lullaby that her mother would gentle sing to her at night and it seemed to haunt her just recently and maybe all her life. Her feet lifted from the air light she was weightless. Her dance magical yet slightly morbid.

" I seemed to forget." The melody began to breach in a more morbid key.

"For me redemption." Her eye gentle fluttered close as she felt a cold wind pass through her long ash like hair.

"Is something only fools would mention." She gasped her lips became cool and she became aware of her surroundings. Her body it felt shattered inside of it's self and the graceful dove came to a fall. Concaving herself into her legs. She felt the ground underneath her stain the white skirt she was wearing. The water seeped through and she ran, she ran from the feeling.

As she came closer to the old beat up convertible she jumped in feeling a bit more normal. Yet feeling a bit more hallow then she ever did before. Wind gentle passed through her hair as she drove away. She felt the after affects of the ad reline that was firmly passing through out her veins. Her breathe became ragged and her eyes drooped. The world it seemed to be spread out in a flat plate. Of an array of never ending cars and trucks. All oblivious to the life and tragedy around them. Mostly the little dove that sat timidly in her seat.

She passed most of the ride looking gentle behind her back at the slightest feel of a chill or movement in the car. Her mind taking on a tumble of emotions that she was not use to. That never held her attention enough to be notice or never even passed through her mind. She clutch the steering wheel with long fingered hands. Her wrist little and very precious looking.

She quickly caught a faded figure in the back ground of the crowed interstate. Yet she dismissed it and decided to drive a little bit faster concentrating on her destination. When she finally made her way upon the lime green cottage that was intriguing and classic yet blended with the warm climate of San Jose.

She gentle made her way upon the white steps and opened the door with a creak and a slam from the screen door. She look to see the father she wasn't quite fond of cutting tomatoes on the gray granite kitchen counter.

"Are you going to eat Bella?" He questioned.

"Dancers don't have time for eating." She stated simply. She winced at the sound of the slamming knife on the kitchen counter.

"I'm not going to sit here and watch my daughter grow Anorexic." He commanded.

"Well, you sure can watch my brother suffer." Bella screamed while running up the stairs. She bated an eye at there usual interaction.

She walked by her room looking at the boxes that still needed unpacking. She appeared like a wisp. Running up to the attic that now became her new dance studio. She quickly looked at the her reflection in the mirror.

Her long hair gentle cascaded down her back. As she turned in a circle admiring her body and how her clothes limply hanged on her. She felt as though the floor should open up and swallow her. Embarrassed. She began stepping out of her long crisp skirt. Pale skinny thighs and small delicate trimmed toes that were unusually long. She began to strip off her shirt. Her black bra a blinding contrast to her snow white skin. She flushed even more as though the person in the mirror was a stranger. She enjoyed to dance nude. So quickly she shimmied out of her panties, while unclasping her bra. Strangely the process was not erotic at all. A very innocent ideal way as though she was getting ready to bathe.

Her body did not look as fertile as it should. She was so deathly white it seemed as though she was dieing. She cursed her non existent breast. She felt her side and hips wear curves should have been. She almost look like a skinny young boy.

She quickly dashed to a beat up dark gray boom box and a light melody flew through the air. Her stretches were soon enough done. Even though she was lacking her bar stretch she held on to one of the lower beams. Her body was underneath beautiful. Yet her skin, like an china doll. She graceful started off with an Battement. Quickly it turned from long drawn out movements to Bourree movement. Short quick and lightly she danced. Never missing a step and never missing a beat. A thin layer of sweat covered her body. Soon she began to slow done trying to do the Arabeque, a move she had yet to conquered.

She became steady counting the beats in her head. Soon she was mastering it until gravity took a turn for the worst and she fell.

Just like she knew she always would.

Like a withering flower. She game to a elegant tumble to the floor. Yet the tears of her own shame. Never came. She vowed to not look in the mirror. For what she may see could crush her. She was a coward.

Here body in cripples in a hot attic she began to slowly stumble up. Then she made a quick glance in the mirror but it wasn't her ice blue eyes she was staring at. It was the dark eyes of a young Indian boy that she grew so fond of. Clad with no clothes also he gentle sniffed her ash brown hair.

"You've lost your passion. You've lost your will to dance. You pressure yourself to learn the steps and the moves. Yet for what. What do you dance for." He gentle remarked. Running his hands down her arms. Bella writhing out of his grasp. As she looked over her shoulder only to see that it was her own mine that made the judgment.

** Well this isn't my original plot. Okay. This actually just came in my head and it will be a heck of a lot easy to write. So its up to you my readers if I should continue.**

**Review PLEASE. It really means the world to see a review. Also if your wondering Bella is based of a real person in one of my favorite nonfiction books Whispers by Dr. Ronald Ronald Siegel a UCLA professor from the last time I checked. Thank you for reading!**


	2. Devil's Snare

Late in night you could find Bella talking to herself. A bit odd yes. But who was there to be with. Just her and the crippled Ballet flats. Mostly Bella would not talk to herself in whole conversations wise. She would reassure herself. Council herself. The sweet air lifted her curtains. Like a breathing child. So peaceful. It was the fresh air from a summer night that calmed her. She counted the curtains breathes as the wind circulated through her room.

The Melatonin in the house had surprisingly ran out. So the struggle to clam her body over the amount of anxiety that fueled her system. Like her brother said ' She truly is a creature of the night'. When her parents weren't around. Bella would sneak in the attic to see her brother. Bringing along and a pack of skittles.

Yet those memories were to haunting to come across again.

She tried to get the gloominess of her thought to exit her body. She hummed through her lips a metal song by Three Days Grace. She tried to strum a couple cords to Pachebel's Canon on her Lute. Yet nothing seemed to make her body any more wide awake then it was.

The sun was not due for a long amount of time. She gazed out her window. Only to hear a plane passing over head. She lived fairly close to the San Jose Nation Airport. So the norm was to always hear a couple planes passing by. Her eyes traveled to the plan over head until she caught something out side of her eye.

A form of a women blackened by the dim lighting of the room made her silhouette visible to Bella. It seemed the women was tending to a baby. Her fingers danced on the rims of the crib. Soon her hand slowly reached in to take out a plump baby. She held the child up in the air slightly and admiring a piece of herself. She could see that the mom soon was cradling the child in her arms gazing at it and rocking gentle with her arms leaning right on the edge of the cradle.

Bella cried that night, still she slept.

That night Bella dreamed.

She dreampt of open orea boxes. Tangy fruit punch. Metal music set at the lowest notch of sound. She dreampt of round lensed baby blue glasses and scattered match box cars. She dreampt of the seventy style fuzzy rugs with a sea green tint. She dreampt of algebra text books and fancy binoculars.

She dreampt of magical laughs and the boy that left her.

Forever.

She dreampt with an old photograph that held the most important person in her young life.

Soon the curtains like all things stopped breathing. Yet light scattered through the thin lace. Making the room light up with just a kiss of the sun. A typical Sunday morning.

Soon Bella woke up. Strangely like always she was confronted with blackness from her eyes that needed redirecting to open. Soon bright blue eyes were unveiled to her tired and reckless refection in the mirror.

She was brushing her crooked teeth with the gap in the middle. Sharing an awkward breakfast with Charlie. Practiced her ballet a little bit and now brushing her hair on the couch contemplating what to do today.

Still the only thing in the back of her mind was Drawbridge. The warm environment still lingered on her skin and she could barley feel the wind passing through her hair. Yet she had no idea why she was drawn to Drawbridge, like a nightmare was drawn to a dream catcher. She was under it dark devil's snare. Soon she felt it would conqueror her.

She felt a furry body weave its way through her bare legs. She looked down to see a plump gray cat that had a lot of a resemblance to a whoopie cushion.

"Mickey." Bella called. The fat gray cat ringed its bell as she planted her bottom on Bella's lap and purred happily. The cats fur shed on the short shorts which Bella was wearing. Soon Bella's gaze lingered to the door. The cat looked up at Bella and Bella looked down at the cat.

The bright sun felt strange on her fair skin. Being the Midwestern girl she was. Bella was use to snow and scarfs. Soon she came close to a 1965 Mustang red convertible in the front drive way. That reminded her of the Aerosmith song "Crazy". Soon she was heading out on a twenty two minute ride with Prince baring out from the speakers as she passed the city of Alviso.

Wind streaked out from her hair as she felt the salty atmosphere on her skin. She was just out of the limits of the city and the world seemed less chaotic. Soon the path became less clear for Bella. The earth under her car was hard on her tires and she then came to see the Union Pacific Railroad track right by Marina Park. There she knew that she had found Drawbridge territory.

The walk was soon enough. She decided that walking on the outside of the train tracks and avoiding the grass would be the best decision. The train track seemed like an treadmill. She kept going and going. But all she saw were the same mountains. The same long grass. The same yellow dirt. Even though the walk would only be two miles.

In the distances she heard something. Something unintelligible she couldn't make out. Like an humming noise. Pure rich it was to her ear drums. Yet it was fast. Quick and steady.

_Chooo Ch Ch Chooo._

Bella's body was in a stand still from shock.

Soon she turned around to see a train rumbling down the tracks at her. Yet her feet felt glued to the ground. Then in a second she fling her body to the ground rolling around on the grass. She put her hands over her hears to avoid the loud sound of the train popping on the train track.

Scared or still in shock. Bella laid in the grass. Grinning. For no apparent reason except she found something.

A home.

There it was like a crippled Polio patient it stood tall. It was an rotting wood color and it was quite large. The window looked like they were the drawing of a kindergartener. It was concaving into its self. It was completely square with a flat roof. Yet the amount of character it had made it perfect.

She got up and dusted herself off. Using the after shock of the train to get the energy to run to it. She stumbled into it. It looked to have an porch. Weeds wound there way practically tearing down the shack.

The floor was covered in dirt. Excess panel of wood covered it so much you could not tell what was the floor. Graffiti covered the walls. Strangely she could make out every thing.

In the corner she could make out the nobs of where a bathroom used to be. She could see a area for bunks. She noticed one of the beams and read this.

_Drawbridge, California_

_ Alabuma County_

_ James Manson_

A home.

This place was someones home.

Once.


End file.
